


Boneless

by bex_xo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, some lady loving, valarmorekinks prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draining the rest of her glass of wine, one of her friends infamous smirks rests firmly in place on her lips as she saunters across the room and to where Sansa is standing breathless. She is nothing but a bundle of nerves at this point, likely to burst at the slightest touch from the anticipation that has been building in the last hour since the other woman started whispering in her ear about how badly she wanted to eat her out while the rest of the Starks were only yards away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boneless

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 3 of Valarmorekinks back in April! Just realized I never posted it here! 
> 
> Prompt: Margaery convinced Sansa to hide in a private room with her in the midst of a family party so she can eat her out.

“Shhh. Someone is going hear us.” Sansa whispers as she drags Margie down one of long corridors of her parents home.   
  
The pair giggle in unison as they tip toe across her mothers mahogany floors in their sky-high heels and tastefully short dresses. The alcohol coursing through her veins makes her feel like Bambi walking on ice for the first time, just tipsy enough to cling to the other girl as they make their escape, glasses of wine held precariously in their manicured fingers.   
  
“Darling, I plan on everyone being able to hear us.” Margie murmurs with a wink that makes Sansa go red from head to toe.   
  
Pushing Margie into the room before her, Sansa double checks the hallway to make sure no one has followed them from where her parents are hosting a dinner party tonight, friends and family have shown up to celebrate the engagement of her elder brother Robb and Jeyne Westerling. Shutting the door behind her, Sansa leans against it after clicking the lock in place, a smile blooming across her face when her eyes land on her very best friend.

Draining the rest of her glass of wine, one of her friends infamous smirks rests firmly in place on her lips as she saunters across the room and to where Sansa is standing breathless. She is nothing but a bundle of nerves at this point, likely to burst at the slightest touch from the anticipation that has been building in the last hour since the other woman started whispering in her ear about how badly she wanted to eat her out while the rest of the Starks were only yards away.  
  
It wouldn't be their first hook up, not that they had made a regular habit of having sex together. They were just friends who occasionally liked to give each other mind-blowing orgasms when they both were perfectly single.   
  
Their past trysts were few, Margie always having some hot new thing on her arm (most recently it had been a petite blonde named Daenerys) and Sansa was the commitment type, even if her now-ex Harry was not. Harry should have been the one to come to this party with her, but since that blew up in her face, her best friend had agreed to come as her plus one.   
  
Between the rapid fire consumption of the sweet sparkling wine they had been toasting with, and the dirty flirty things that the other womans has been spewing into her ear all night, she was practically crawling out of her skin with want right now.   
  
Not that she needs alcohol in order to want Margie, the memories of previous encounters were more than enough to have her willingly fall back into the woman's bed.  
  
“God, I want you.” Sansa says as the space between them closed.

The older blonde leans in for a kiss, her lips soft with the lingering taste of the white wine they had been drinking earlier. Sansa lets out a sigh, allowing her lover access to swipe her tongue into her mouth, gentle yet firm, the sweetness of the wine mixing with a taste that was simply Margie.

Sansa could have kissed her all night, kissing was her favorite.   
  
Tasting, sucking and biting, using her lips, teeth and tongue to get a reaction out of her partner. Margie was an exceptional kisser, giving just as much as she took, abandoning Sansa's lips for her throat, lips placing hot wet kisses across her rapidly beating pulse point. If she wanted her completely worked up before even touching her cunt, she had succeeded ten fold.

"I thought you had other plans Margie?" Sansa urges her lover, arching her back to press herself fully against the other girls slim body.

She feels the smirk against her shoulder, and suddenly there is a small hand pressing firmly against her mound over the dark blue dress she's wearing, her hips surging forward at the feeling, in search of more. The shorter woman rubs her palm against the satin of Sansa's dress, reaching down to cup her hand in the warmth between her legs, and Sansa is a squirm and a moan against her.   
  
Just as quickly as that hand is there, it and the body attached to it have moved away from the door, pulling Sansa towards the over stuffed leather chair sitting in the corner of the room. With a playful shove, Margie pushes her on the worn brown leather seat, pulling her knees apart as she settles between them.  
  
Sansa arches herself closer to the edge, feeling soft hands rubbing against her knees and moving up her thighs, reaching under her dress just to drag her hands back down her to her knees again. A whine escapes her lips, she is so worked up that the teasing is too much and thankfully her partner seems to know this.   
  
Placing open mouth kisses against the inside of her knee, the woman runs her hands up and under Sansa's hemline again, this time not stopping until they reach the scrap of lace she calls her panties tonight.   
  
A feeling like electricity surges through her body at the contact of the soft, fine finger against her center, fingers brushing lightly over the lace covering her mound before wrapping fully around the band and pulling them down. Instinct takes over as her mind is clouded in a haze of lust and want, lifting her ass off the seat as her panties are pulled down inch by painful inch.   
  
Sansa rucks the hem of her dress up and over her hips while her thong is brought down over the rest of her legs before tossing them to the side. Its an obscene thing when she spreads her knees wider, opening herself up completely to the woman on her knees in front of her, entirely bare and her desire obvious.   
  
“Oh, I have been waiting for the chance to do this again.” Margie says with a lick of her lips, doe eyes glimmering with mischief before placing a slow kiss on Sansa's inner thigh.   
  
It's a slow finger slide at first contact, the familiar pad of a finger grazing the outer lips, but its enough for Sansa to let out a sigh of relief at the slight pleasure it gives her. Then there are two fingers, parting her folds and dipping into the wet of her, gathering moisture on them before being dragged away and into a soft pink mouth.   
  
Sansa is not sure who moans louder; her at the sight or Margie at the taste.   
  
“You taste as good as I remember. Better even.”   
  
The blonde has her hands on Sansa's hips before she can blink, before she even has time to think, pulling her forward enough that she is barely sitting in the cushion any longer, her long legs slung over Margies slender shoulders, heels digging into the black mesh back of her lovers dress.   
  
Maintaining eye contact, Margie looks boldly up as her tongue swipes along Sansa's folds, licking into her slowly and precisely. It's enough that Sansa feels her eyes roll back and her head slumps against the chair she sits in, pleasure easing itself through her body as her lover works her over with her talented mouth.   
  
Biting her lip to hold in a moan, the woman at her cunt spreads her open even more with her fingers, tongue expertly finding the bundle of nerves that gives her the most pleasure.  
  
“Fuck.” Sansa groans out as she feels her peak starting to build low in her belly.  
  
With each passing of the skilled tongue that sends sparks pulsing from Sansa's cunt to her toes, the ache that is building up inside her only grows stronger. Harry was good at this, but Margaery could be a goddamn professional at eating cunt. Sansa is half certain she will die of pleasure before she even gets the chance to return the favor.  
  
Not that she's complaining here.  
  
Her lovers mouth still works ever so slowly, a steady pace across her clit, occasionally dipping down into her opening and lapping at the wetness that pools there.   
  
Just as slowly, Sansa reaches down and wraps her fingers into Margies golden locks, twisting them tightly between her digits, pulling them the way she knows she likes. It earns her a moan that she feels reverberate between her thighs.   
  
It is not enough, but at the same time practically too much, her senses in over drive as Margie adds pressure in the form of her lips wrapping around her clit.  
  
“Oh shit. Oh Margie.” Sansa whimpers out, her hips thrusting forward while her nails dig into the scalp of the woman giving her so much pleasure.   
  
Sansa knows it's obvious that she's close to her peak, her hips wont stop jumping and she's pressing Margies head as close as she get to where she needs it, holding her in place.  
  
“I'm so close. Make me come Margie, please. Fuck me. I need more.”  
  
All it takes is the adding of two fingers and half a dozen pumps of fingers curling upwards and Sansa falls over the edge, crying out her orgasm while Margie continues to lick away at her.   
  
“Oh fuck. Chirst. Fuck. Margie, you feel so good.” Sansa says, rambling out a dozen or more incoherent words before she is completely and utterly spent.  
  
Sliding down the chair and to the floor, Sansa takes short gasping breaths while trying to regain a sense of composure. Margie just grins wickedly, licking the remnants of Sansa's release off the fingers that caused it.   
  
“Daenerys taught me that little finger trick there at the end. I told you dating a foreign girl had its benefits.” The blonde says with a laugh before motioning for Sansa to come over to her.   
  
“Can't move. Boneless. You're fault.” Sansa utters out from her spot on the floor, her legs feel like jelly and she knows she couldn't move even if she tried.   
  
“Now what would I need to do to get that pretty little mouth of yours on me?” Margie asks, smirk on her face as she shimmies out of the dress she's wearing to show she's completely bare underneath.   
  
“Get over here. We'll figure something out.”

 


End file.
